Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Monaco and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing ABBA to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
The Remains,
Roxy Music,
Funkadelic,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sam Rivers,
The Pretty Things,
Rosa Yemen,
Maleditus Sound,
Rod Modell,
Fat Boys,
Marc Almond,
Lucky Dragons,
The Sound,
Accadde A,
Harpers Bizarre,
Loose Ends,
E-Dancer,
The Toasters,
Pantaleimon,
Spandau Ballet,
8 Eyed Spy,
Erasure,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Chrome,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Monochrome Set,
Magazine,
AZ,
Surgeon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lalann,
The Five Americans,
Robert Wyatt,
The Divine Comedy,
The Leaves,
The Doobie Brothers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Stiv Bators,
The Mojo Men,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Dirtbombs,
Urselle,
Fatback Band,
Tubeway Army,
Skriet,
Pussy Galore,
Hot Snakes,
New Age Steppers,
Letta Mbulu,
Deepchord,
Q65,
Alice Coltrane,
Lindisfarne,
Ronan,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Fugs,
L. Decosne,
Joe Smooth,
Pere Ubu,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.